


victory

by Sheree



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19393942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheree/pseuds/Sheree
Summary: Missing scene from episode twelve.





	victory

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this little piece about two years ago in Hungarian and posted on wattpad. This was the first fanfic that I have ever written and shared online so it’s special to my hearth.
> 
> I apologize for all of the typos and my broken grammar. I tried
> 
> Have fun and live a comment if you liked it.
> 
> sll.

_“After the final, let’s end this.”_

He was stunned.

_“…?”_

I took a breath. 

_“You’ve done more than enough for me, Victor. Thanks to you, I was able to give everything I had to my last season.”_

Bow.

_“Thank you for everything, Victor! Thank you for being my coach.”_

Then I was stunned. 

_“Victor?”_

And it wasn’t his hair that was dripping.

_“…?”_

_“Right. I made this selfish decision on my own. I’m retiring.”_

His lashes were heavy from tears. His cheeks were flushed and his bangs were wet and soft.

_“…?”_

_“Oh, I’m just surprised to see you cry.”_

Then he pushed away my hand.

_“…!”_

And things went wild.

_“You’re the one who said it was only until the Grand Prix final!”_

_“…”_

_“Aren’t you going to make a comeback? You don’t have to worry about me-“_

_“How can you tell me to return to the ice while saying you’re retire?!”_

His fingers dug into my shoulders.

His voice was harsh and sharp, but slowly, like a candle, died out.

He tried, and tried, tried so hard but it meant anything.

I didn’t want to hear, I didn’t want to understand. I didn’t want to change.

I said what I wanted to say, I was polite and respectful, I didn’t expect answers.

 **I want to win and disappear**.

I decided at the beginning that this is the final ride. I had my reasons: I didn’t born to be a miracle, I wasn’t creative, unique, I didn’t have a golden medal, I’ve never won anything, I couldn’t win against him, I couldn’t be him. I was old, without belief. When he reached out, I just took his hands.

I say his name.

Hands lose their grip and a back hits the bed.

I hear my name. The words lost their meaning. The minutes converge.

The lust overwhelms the will.

I hear my name. Fear and beg.

Dry lips rip apart. Small bites, big bites, flesh, blood and air.

**I want to be a winner.**

I want to break the perfection, feel my chances. I want to be more, better, different. I want to be like him.

There are lot of ways of victory: a plenty of right and a plenty of wrong. Opportunities, chances, decisions.

There is a winner who owns. Owns talent, beauty, stamina, power and can use it all to achieve his goal. He has white hair, pale skin, blue eyes, wide shoulders, dreams and desires. He is pure.

**I want to defeat him.**

But there is a winner who conquers. Conquers the one who owns, steals all he owns.

He wants it all.

And he is a thief.

The prey writhes under the grasp of the beast. Their eyes interact searching for the answers. The prey is defenceless and confused, it’s only a lingering heartbeat and tooth knocking breaks the silence. A lonesome joy with silent tears. Fingers search for their place until slid out of the view. Deeper and deeper, more and more until the prey give up the fight. Black, white then black again. Sparkles and iron.

It happened.

The bed is creaking, the floor is crying under the lonely steps. Dry words hoarsely land on the ground.

“Think it… over again. Don’t give up like this.”

I don’t look at him.

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest I cut out a lot and rewrote some parts so it isn't an accurate translation, but I like it...


End file.
